Anteros

Crippled
Crouched and quivering
On the threshold
The open maw
Of potentiality yawns before me.
Moving past the spindles that
Ring the stairwell of this heart
Spurs cold sweat that
Trickles down my neck
Wrapped in timid terror
Beyond the skin; inside this husk
The heat of passion blurs
A whirligig kaleidoscope
Bursting forth
Gulping air; inflamed.
Anteros fans his wings
Blossom-scented winds rise above
Carry me
Over the threshold into
His golden arms
Face to face with the God himself
Fear consumed by Love